


lucky- a bib fortuna story

by jango_fettish



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Satire, bib fortuna deserves better!!!!, please enjoy this disaster of a story, sad bib
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jango_fettish/pseuds/jango_fettish
Summary: This is a satirical piece, I did not read it after I wrote it so there will be grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.
Kudos: 2





	lucky- a bib fortuna story

**Author's Note:**

> This is a satirical piece, I did not read it after I wrote it so there will be grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.

Bib Fortuna was a lucky man. Only one so fortunate could have the ability to raise in the ranks of Jabba the Hutt’s inner circle. He was blessed; far more blessed than his predecessors before him. It wasn’t an easy job being a majordomo for the Hutt crime lord. Jabba was a difficult slug to reign in, especially if he was presented with such a high stakes opportunity.

Jabba had grown bored of his empire. Or at least that’s how Bib interpreted it. And he was very good at interpreting. So when the Jedi with the Chanel boots came into the Palace, demanding that Jabba release Han Solo— the scoundrel, how care he try to evade the might and illustrious Jabba the Hutt— Bib could recognize that look of excitement in his master’s face. One would miss it if they weren’t looking close enough, and it was very hard to look close enough. But Bib saw the twinkle in Jabba’s eye, saw the way his massive body shook with energy. It was a sight to behold, and Bib was standing right next to it. How blessed he was.

When the Jedi killed the Rancor, Bib could feel the heat and anger radiating off of Jabba’s body. For a moment, he thought that steam would rise from the fearsome slug creature. It did seem like he was overheating from the inside out most days, but Tatooine was so very hot, it was nearly impossible to go a moment without sweating.

Bib thought the execution of the Jedi, Han Solo, and the smelly Wookie was going swimmingly. It was a lovely day on the Dune Sea, no dust storm in sight. Bib himself had found himself sipping on the delicious drinks graciously given to the guests on the sail barge by a plucky droid. Bib didn’t like that droid, though he hated the tall golden one more. How dare the golden interpreter try to weasel his way into Jabba’s good graces. Bib wouldn’t let that get to him, for his master was in a pleasant mood. Jabba, with his new favorite toy by his side, was ever so gracious to let the Jedi say his last words. And like a fool, the Jedi cursed Jabba.

Bib should have seen it coming. He should have known the plucky droid and golden interpreter were false allies, just using the might Jabba for revenge. Everything was chaotic and in the middle of it was Jabba’s beautifully large body, dead. Who could have done such a thing! Who could have choked the life out of the master! Bib was filled with rage and remorse and saddens. But he could not mourn yet, as the barge was on fire and it was getting far too hot for him to handle.

And so, after the Jedi and his posse fled the scene of their crime, having not only killed the great Jabba the Hutt, but also many of Bib’s friends and Boba Fett—though Bib would never admit he was glad that Fett perished for he too was far too close to Jabba. 

Bib did what only one could do, he declared himself the new ruler of the Hutt Crime World. Sure, he was not a Hutt, but the pale Twi'lek had served Jabba for decades, so through transitive property, he basically was a Hutt. It was not an easy thing for him to do. Who could replace such a man as Jabba? But, Bib did it for Jabba.

To make his subjects and lackies more comfortable at the sudden change, Bib decided it was a good idea to make himself as Jabba looking as he could. What a grand idea, Bib thought to himself, as he ate another plate of delicious meats, his body engorged in a way it had not been before. 

Bib Fortuna was a lucky man. What riches and lavish items were given to him as he sat on the throne. What power he held, and all in honor of the great Jabba the Hutt of course. But luck could only last so long. And Bib’s had run out.

When the woman came into the palace, killing all of Bib’s subjects and guards, and freeing his Togruta maiden, who LIKED to be there for she never tried to gnaw her own leg off like the others did, Bib was angry. Never had he been so disrespected and in the home of the once might Jabba. For shame.

But it was not the woman that caused Bib’s throat to constrict, that made him shake in his boots. It was the figure that stepped down from the stairs and in front of him. Boba Fett.

If only he had purchased another Rancor, Bib would be free from these adversaries. But Bib did not know how the Rancor fit in the cave, so he just let it be a cave. So, Bib did what Bib does best: nothing. Boba Fett would not kill Bib Fortuna. Bib did not even see Fett raise his blaster, though it was hard to see anything past his great Jabba-like neck and gullet. And like a coward, Boba Fett shot the great Bib Fortuna as he sat on his throne.

Bib Fortuna was a lucky man. But Boba Fett was luckier.


End file.
